Carry On The Legacy
by Chaos In Her Wake
Summary: Odysseus and Penelope are dead. Telemachus must marry Hermione to secure his leadership, but he doesn't want to marry unless the girl will be as faithful as Penelope was. And we ALL know what Helen, Hermione's mom, did!
1. Chapter 1

**Any incongruencies with Greek culture or myth (e.g. who they actually married) are entirely mine, but the characters belong to the ancient authors. I try to make these glitches as infrequent as pssoble, but I'm no expert! Thanks for reading :) **

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><p>Not a year after my father returned home, his hair turned gray. I suppose his adventured caught up to him. By the time his hair was completely white, he was gone. Not dead, but gone. One night I half-awoke to feel him brush back the hair on my forehead and kiss me. That was the last time I ever saw my father. My mother died soon after; the healer said it was a broken heart the killed her. Her last words to me were, "Secure your leadership- marry Hermione." Sure enough, my island kingdom would not be stable until I married, and I was betrothed to Hermione. The engagement was made when we were still children, but it could not be broken with both my parents dead. I would marry Hermione. She would become queen of these rocky shores. All the elders were delighted when I made the official announcement, and for a good reason: since the girl was of noble birth, the marriage would firmly secure my leadership.<p>

The problem lay in the fact that I had no desire to marry Hermione. If I marry, I want my wife to be faithful as my mother Penelope was. If I marry, I vow to be as faithful as my father Odysseus was. We all know what Hermione's mother did- Helen went off with Prince Alexandros of Troy, and King Menelaus had to fetch back his disgraceful wife. Then they started a war, and my father was dragged off to fight. I still remember when Diomedes put me in front of the plow, foiling Odysseus's plan to feign insanity. I wasn't even walking when my father went to war. Ten years later, Menelaus, Agamenmon, Nestor, and the others returned, with tales of the storm that had separated the Ithacans from the rest of the Achaean fleet.

Almost immediately afterwards, our home filled with rude, disrespectful suitors vying for my mother's hand. They chased me away and I traveled to Pylos, where Gerenian Nestor told stories late into the night of my father's faithfulness, courage, and wit. The adventured of Odysseus gave me strength to return, but they also made me weep for the father I never met. When Pallas Athena came to me in a dream and told me that Odysseus lived, I rejoiced. There was still a chance that I could know my father. The knowledge gave my mother new heart also. She wove and unwove a shroud for my old grandfather Laertes, stalling for her husband's return. Only through the betrayal of her trusted maid Melantho was her ruse discovered. The next day cruel Antinous and the drunkard Eurymachus commanded my mother to choose another husband. "Pick one of us, woman!" they jeered, "Your husband Odysseus is dead." Fearing an attempt on my life, I fled to the rural home of Eumaeus the chief swineherd. Sometimes when I was younger, he would spin stories for me of Odysseus when he was young, as would my old nurse Eurycleia.

However, I was not Eumaeus's only visitor. A hunched, dirty, old beggar rose as the swineherd ushered me into the hut. I pitied the ancient man, who was probably run out of the village by Antinous's drunken cronies. Telling him to sit back down, I helped Eumaeus pull together a couch for myself. We made idle talk with me making subtle references to my father. Finally the beggar picked up on my thoughts. "I knew the wily Odysseus, young prince," he rasped, "not too long ago, he was at Phaecia planning to return home." Eumaeus and I were both overjoyed, but the man claimed to not know any more about my father. The truth emerged when Eumaeus took his leave to help the gangly young herders bring home the unruly hogs. Feeling awkward with the beggar staring at me, I turned to collect my cloak. When I faced the beggar again, he was gone. In his place stood a tall, strong man with golden hair and a richly colored cloak. Gone were the beggar's rags, replaced by a crisp white tunic. The man's- or god's- eyes shone with tears. I sank to my knees in awe.

"Which god has blessed me with his great presence?" I gasped. The man smiled sadly.

"It's me, Telemachus. I'm Odysseus." I could not believe it. Someone was twisting the knife in my heart, causing grief anew. What were the gods holding against me? I never disrespected any of them.

"If you're really my father, prove it to me now," I challenged. The man's eyes narrowed, just the way my mother said Odysseus's did when presented with a challenge. Did I just imagine it?

"I am Odysseus Laertiades, leader of the Ithacan fleet in the Trojan War. My wife is Penelope and my son is Telemachus. My patron goddess is Bright Eyes Athena- it was she who changed my appearance and caused your alarm. She also gave my son a mark on his left shoulder when he was born that takes the form of the aegis." It was truly Odysseus. After my mark had become the source of ridicule in training, I never revealed it to anyone.

"Father!" I stood too abruptly and promptly fell forward. Odysseus caught me, and we both began weeping like two women having hysterics; our cries mimicked those of the eagles that soar through the mountains. The minstrels already sing the rest of the story; how Odysseus slaughtered Penelope's suitors, reclaimed his rocky island kingdom, and convinced Mother that it was really him.

They do not sing of how Penelope had Father finalize my betrothal to Hermione immediately after the last of the bodies had been disposed of, or how I stormed out of the palace to bury the old dog Argos when Mother told me this. Now, that engagement is to be fulfilled and I will have to marry Hermione. They say she has her mother's beauty and her father's courage. Penelope used to be Helen's closest friend. I hope Mother's faithfulness, somehow, will appear in the girl I shall marry next week.

Grandfather loved to say, "Country before family, and family before self." Country before family _runs _in the family, otherwise Odysseus would not have left for Troy in the first place. Family before self was easy for my parents; my mother remained faithful and was able to dissuade drunken suitors from murdering me many ties and my father remained faithful for twenty years. How will it be for me to carry on the tradition, and put my personal wishes to the side in order to have a family and secure my position? Oh gods, I don't care if Hermione is the ugliest woman to walk the earth, but please give her the faithfulness of Penelope, and grant me the faith of Odysseus.

Grant me the faith to trust this decision is the right one.

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><p><strong>The next chapter, the wedding, will be a little while in coming up- I have no idea about Ancient Greek wedding traditions! Well, reviews are treasured, and thanks again for reading. :)<strong>


	2. Chapter 2

**So I finally figured this thing out. :) It's more in line with the myths, too, so enjoy! R&R!**

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><p>She is so beautiful. I cannot withstand this burden any longer. With her long fair hair whirling as she prances about my halls, Hermione seems to me a great weight upon my shoulders. I know I should be glad- Menelaus even consented to send his eldest daughter to be queen of rocky Ithaca instead of bringing me to his state as king of Sparta. It was never for me, though. It was a gesture in memory of Odysseus. He had waved it off as a sign of his support of me, saying he had many other daughters. I realized the truth. Tonight I will marry a girl I know only as the daughter of Helen of Sparta and Troy. Bah, Helen the Destroyer!<p>

Officially, it is the first night of festivities- the bride had arrived mere hours earlier. To me, the feasts and revelries simply are continuing, seeing as my friends and allies have been rejoicing for six days, more and more pouring into Ithaca's harbors as the parties continue. Tonight is just the high point of the festivals. I slump a little lower in my chair and swirl the honeyed mead in my golden goblet. Ithacans have never been a people for partying- Penelope especially, even after Odysseus returned at last.

Hermione flashes past my chair in a whirl of ivory skirts and smiled flirtatiously as she passes. Orestes whistles at me, but then he starts and abashedly grins towards me in apology. I smile weakly for a moment and shrug, raising my cup to my lips and letting the remainder of the drink flow down my throat. A young serving-maid, Hecale, hurries to refill my goblet. I will need to drink as much as I can hold in order to make it through the night.

Pisistratus looks at me in concern. He sailed with me to Sparta on my journey before Odysseus returned- the son of Nestor can see what I am feeling better than anyone, bar Penelope. "Are you feeling well, Telemachus? Perhaps it would be to your advantage if you laid aside your goblet for the night." The man goes to take away my drink, but I hold the cup with white-knuckled fingers. Pisistratus sighs. "At least you need to ready yourself for the ceremonies- it would not do to have Telemachus son of Odysseus walking to his marriage looking like a common drunkard!" I allow Orestes and Pisistratus to nudge me to my rooms, Orestes joking at my sorry state all the way. O, why did I ever befriend him? Yes, he was at Ithaca while he was waiting for purification from his murder of his mother Clytemnestra and her lover Aegisthus; we spent much time together as reluctant acquaintances. We must have grown to tolerate each other. I turn to my friend, smiling at the memory, but he's not looking at me- Orestes isn't even making jests anymore. He's watching Hermione with wistful eyes.

"Orestes!" I snap. He jumps and turns toward me.

"Is the bridegroom a little nervous?" he says, a smile playing across his lips.

"Do you love her?" I ask, pointing to my betrothed.

"Wh... what?" he stutters, "Why would I love your future wife? Are you trying to bring the gods' wrath upon your house, Telemachus?"

"Do you love her?" I demand. He lowers his eyes from my face.

"Yes."

"Then marry her!"

"WHAT? That is not possible! She is betrothed to you, friend, and I do not envy you. Hermione is not destined to be my wife."

"Why not? My parents saw each other and fell in love- Odysseus chose Penelope over Helen. I do not wish to marry a girl I have never met- no matter how pretty she is. Marry her, Orestes!"

"I will not marry your bride!"

"I do not want her- she is yours, Orestes!" Pisistratus, always sensible, lays a hand on Orestes' shoulder.

"Telemachus is offering you a great gift, friend. Take it, I advise you!" Orestes hesitates, and then nods. Then Pisistratus turns to me. "How will you make invalid your betrothal and give Hermione to Orestes? The elders will not approve."

"You shall see in a moment, dear friend." I stride from the rooms, the two astounded men following me. The entire crowd turns their heads as I step forth into the main hall, with my friends following on either side of me.

"Tonight tow people are to be married!" I proclaim, staggering a bit from the amount I drank earlier. Everyone cheers and Hermione steps forth with a veil over her face. I do not wish to marry her. This will be a shock to her especially.

"Let us celebrate the joining of Orestes and Hermione!" The girl is stunned, but Orestes steps forward and grins a lopsided smile.

"But… but…" Hermione whispers.

"What is the meaning of this, boy?" the elders say, "You are to marry the daughter of Menelaus!" Whisper begin to fly through the crowd.

"Another woman…"

"She's not good enough…"

"Coward!" I draw my sword and brandish it menacingly.

"I am no coward, nor am I in love with another. I do not wish to marry Hermione, but Orestes harbors a deep love for the girl. Let the two be married!" Stout, red-haired Menelaus stomps forward from the crowds.

"How shall I react, then, to receiving a different son than the one I had accounted for?"

"Sir, I do not need a wife to secure my throne. If I do not marry Hermione now, it will show the same courage as if I had taken her as my wife." Menelaus scowls.

"Orestes? Do you agree to the proposed match?" My friend nods. Pisistratus folds his arms and smirks. We share a look saying we made the right choice. After a gaping-mouthed hesitation, the elders begin the ceremonies.

"We are pleased to welcome Orestes and Hermione to the home of King Telemachus of Ithaca!" I slip into the shadows, making my way to the drinks. I need another. Pisistratus does not take it from me this time. I do not need a wife. I have secured my position as king of Ithaca- a just king like his father, clever Odysseus. I wonder if my father would be proud of what I did tonight.

But, deep in my soul, I know the answer. He is proud of me. He knows I do not need to marry unless I find a woman as faithful as my mother- a woman who will be perfect match, like Penelope and Odysseus. My father would understand my actions completely.

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><p><strong>Yeah, I'm not taking this thing any further. It's resolved the issue and Telemachus is happy, so :). Another story to add to the completion list. XD<strong>


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